Pray For Rain To Fall
by CucumberandWatercress
Summary: Living through a trauma is hell; reliving it is torture
1. Chapter 1

Pray for the Rain to Fall

The coffee shop was almost empty, with a few customers scattered around the various tables. The only sound was the hushed voices mixing in with the occasional whir of the coffee grinder.

"Enough about me though. How was your day?" Kurt smiled up at Blaine as he finished his sentence, and found him already looking at him. Blaine drank from his cup before speaking. He spoke fondly of every little detail, pausing every now and then to make sure Kurt was still listening. He always was. Blaine would simply smile and start talking again and the life seemed great. Funny thing about life though. It never goes according to plan.

In the far right corner of the Lima Bean, three burly teens made their way towards the checkout counter. One of them was wearing a wide rimmed baseball cap and a plaid shirt. His sleeves are rolled up. They revealed strong, muscular arms and a huge scar on his left bicep. His eyes are grey and have a bloodshot look. Like he's always enraged. His hands were curled into fists as he shuffled slowly towards the bar, knocking over a young boy, of only about six or seven, but instead of crying, he calmly got up. Dusting himself off, he looked up at the burly teen and simply sighed. He began running around his table again when he stopped right in front of the second, much larger teen. This boy, no older than seventeen, looked in his mid twenties. His face sagged around his ever-present frown as his striking green eyes shone against his pale yellow skin. He looked dead, but his eyes were so lively. Alive, filled rage. He looked different than his friend, taller and more put together. But his face betrayed him. Showed his hostile nature. No amount of fun graphic tees could change the harsh look he wore as he joined the other teen.

He walked slowly as well. But his steps weren't dragged across the floor. They were much more rhythmic, like a march. The hollow stomp of his feet against the tiled floor seemed to be the only sound that rang out, other than a few whispered conversations here and there. His deep breaths seemed to catch in his chest as he coughed a few times. Loud, rough coughs that racked his throat and made his eyes water a little. People shot him sympathetic looks, only to be greeted with more bitterness. The third was much smaller than the other two, and seemed almost scared of them. He was stick thin, supporting some sort of panicked stare. He kept checking his surroundings, anticipating danger. A mop of black hair covered his eyes, but the fear was present. He stood stock still, glancing over to the two boys who were waiting for him. The tallest one signaled for him to join them, grunting out his name when he didn't move. Benjamin. His name sounded so violent when it was said with such hatred. He slowly walked over to the others and settled in between them. Keeping his eyes locked onto the floor, he ignored their conversations. He would stand with them and back them up, but only because he was afraid. He would not, however, engage in their conversations. He felt too proud about his opinions to have them tossed aside.

Blaine was sipping from his cup again when his eyes fell onto the three teens. He sharply inhaled before going very pale. His eyes were fixated on the three massive bodies turned away from him, and his mouth was gaping open. His brain shut down. He slowly lowered his coffee cup, putting it down a little harder than anticipated. A few drops of coffee sprang out and landed on his hand. They burned as they came in contact with cool skin. Blaine should've winced. He should have reacted. But he kept staring. Didn't even blink. Didn't register the pain or his surroundings. He was vaguely aware of Kurt's futile attempts to catch his attention. Poor Kurt was dumbfound. His forehead was crinkled as his eyes shone with worry. Calling out Blaine's name obviously wasn't working. He leaned close to Blaine and grabbed his hands, stroking his knuckles with one hand as he cupped his face with the other. A tear had begun to stream down Blaine's soft cheeks and Kurt brushed it off. As soon as that happened he heard a low grunt coming from behind him.

"Ugh, damn faggots." Kurt stiffened as Blaine fell back against his chair and closed his eyes.

The last few drops fell from the bright golden red leaves as Blaine hurried along. His hands were methodically placed above his head as he tried to shield his hair from the water. This gel wasn't waterproof. It had taken him enough time to realize that brushing through the gel was bad, and water certainly wouldn't help anything. He sped up his pace as the fresh spring breeze nipped at his side and he extended a hand out to Louis, his charming date, shivering beside him,

"C'mon, let's go,"

"Relax," Louis coaxed, taking Blaine's palm in his own "It's not like we're gonna miss anything, dance's just begun". They walked in silence for a couple minutes before something caught their eyes. There were colorful lights illuminating the side of a building that the boys presumed was the dance.

"Over there!" Blaine pointed with his free hand,

"Should we run?" Louis suggested,

"No," Blaine smiled, "I'm enjoying myself." Louis beamed, happier than he had been in as long as he could remember.

"I am too," he leaned towards Blaine, "walking with you." They continued walking wordlessly, happy in each other's presence. The wind picked up as the leaves rustled through the streets, their sound resounding as the nearly bare branches tried to rid the last of their leaves. The colorful foliage littering the sidewalks and edges of the streets whirled, mixing and mingling with each other. It was a beautifully clear night, the air crisp, the moon almost fully visible and the stars just beginning to peak their way through the darkening sky. It was one of those nights where nothing seemed to be able to go wrong; even entering a dark, empty parking lot seemed somehow peaceful with each other by their sides. Blaine began to hum as the music of the dance approached and was vaguely distinguishable,

"How'd you know that?" Louis asked, surprised

"I love this song." Blaine said matter of factly

"That doesn't answer my question." Louis deadpanned

"When you love something...or hate it, it's one of the two, you know? Either…" Blaine pondered, "It's always the strongest feelings towards something that you realize and recognize first."

"So you recognized this song..." Louis raised an eyebrow

"Right." Blaine smiled as he lead Louis towards the building. As they continued through the parking lot the smile vanished from his face.

"Why do I have a feeling that you recognize something you hate?" Louis teased, but the toothy grin fell as he felt Blaine take a slightly more protective grip on his hand .

"I'm sure it's nothing, let's go." he muttered and the boys made the rest of the way to the dance.

To both boys' surprise, the dance was a great success, and too soon the pair was walking back out, hand in hand. Both Blaine and Louis were humming along to whatever song was still buzzing through their heads.

The moon shone bright against the still empty parking lot, but right as Blaine closed his eyes to breath in the crisp fall air, he heard a distant crackling.

"Did you hear that?" Blaine whispered. The dark shadows from the far side of the empty parking lot slowly approached as a couple of rackety boys seemed to be making their way through a mound of clinking metal. They took their time coming over to Blaine and Louis as the two boys held onto each other tighter and paced themselves, trying to make it as quickly as possible to the other side. Their hearts racing faster and faster each passing second, the shadows seemed to approach with a threateningly high speed. Somewhere within the group of people a heart wrenching shout echoed through the empty lot,

"HEY LOOK, IT'S FAGGOT ANDERSON! HEY FAGGOT ANDERSON!" one of the voices called

"IS THAT YOUR NEW FAGFRIEND?" another resounding yell tore through the air

"Don't listen to them." Blaine hissed through his teeth, slowly tucking their hands behind his back as he began speed walking towards the edge of the street, dragging Louis close beside him,

"HEY WAIT UP! WE'RE NOT DONE WITH YOU." the same voice ripped through the cold air. Clenching onto Louis with all his strength, they began making a run for it but as soon as they thought they might be safe the others were in front of them,

"What's the matter, huh?" one of the boys sneered "queer too scared?" the others gathered around them, encircling them in a jumbled mess of three poorly dressed, smelly teenage boys. As threatening remark after threatening remark was thrown at them, the disgruntled boys began discussing all the terrible things they wanted to do to Blaine and Louis. Clutching to each other the two boys stood paralyzed with fear, millions of thoughts racing through their brains turned to nothing. The washed out whiteness of their insides turned to ice as their bodies seemed to shut down and everything turned black. The blackened world was numbing as they felt invisible in the mask of fear.

The darkness suddenly hit him as Blaine flew backwards on his wrists and Louis was shoved against some sort of brick wall. Staggering up, Blaine got himself back on his feet and began running towards Louis, but not even making it halfway a sudden pair of arms wrapped around his own and shoved him towards a empty lot; he belly flopped into the asphalt as his lungs deflated and all the oxygen inside him was heaved out in one big huff.

"BLAINE!" an aggravated voice cried out,

"YES," Blaine stumbled to grab the edge of a cement block to pull himself up, "I'M RIGHT HERE, I'M COMING LOUIS, I PROMISE" painfully watching Louis get torn up on the other side of the lot;

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO PROMISE THAT," the heartbreaking voice called out behind an untidy heap of angry arms, "JUST PROMISE ME ONE THI-" the voice was silenced by a fist and with a sudden adrenaline rush Blaine ran over to the other side,

"LOUIS!" He screamed, gathering up as much oxygen as he could to make noise with his still not fully oxygenated lungs, "LOUIS ANSWER ME." He gasped, the other boy motionless, still getting rammed against the wall, "LOUIS CAN YOU HEA-" and he was thrown down, onto the cement block, ribs first. The pain tore through his core as the boy kicked him over on his side, stepping on the edge of his chest. The pain was unbearable and at this point there was no way he could get any air into his lungs; his ribs seemed crushed inwards. Lifting his head slightly, he saw his chest pushed in where a rib was sticking out. A shiver of disgust ripped through him, as he felt his lunch come up from his stomach and past an excessively small space where his rib had been forced down. Immediately remembering Louis, he grabbed the side of the bloody cement block and stood up on impulse,

"LOUI-"

Blaine suddenly jolted upwards and hit his knees against the low cafe table. Kurt flinched before cupping Blaine's face again. Blaine leaned into the touch but refused to look Kurt in the eyes.

"Blaine? What's wrong? You haven't moved in at least five minutes." Kurt's voice sounded so hurt. He couldn't bear to see Blaine in any kind of pain. Blaine remained silent, grabbed Kurt's hands resting on his cheeks, and got up. He pushed in his chair before pulling Kurt towards the door and away from the three menacing figures.

"t's nothing. I just- I need some fresh air. Let's go to the park or something..." he turned around and flashed Kurt a lopsided smile that did not convince Kurt at all that this was just 'nothing'. Still, he followed Blaine quietly, reaching for the door when he felt like they were being followed. They both walked out of the Lima Bean and Kurt thought everything would be okay now. Blaine was more relaxed and the fresh air had helped return the natural pink to his cheeks. Suddenly he heard the door slam as a spine chilling voice spoke up.

"WELL WOULD YOU LOOKAT THAT. IT'S FAGGOT ANDERSON!" The three boys laughed and closed in on Kurt and Blaine. Kurt began to feel fear clinging to his insides, so he gripped Blaine hand a little tighter. Blaine's face was unmoving, but his jaw was tightly clenched. He pulled Kurt gently towards his car further down the parking lot. He cursed under his breath as he heard three pair of feet echoing his footsteps.

"Hey! Where you goin fag? We ain't done talking to you, are we Stevie?" Benjamin said while taking a step forward. Stevie nodded before adding his voice to the mix.

"You never learn, do you Anderson? If you won't stay, WE'LL COME GET YOU."


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt got into the car while Blaine hurried to start the ignition and drive out of the Lima Bean parking lot. Blaine was jumpy, nervous, yet totally unaware of Kurt. While he focused on leaving, Kurt's mind sorted through the last few minutes. His mind flashed images of fear, panic stuck onto Blaine's face. Words tossed around, leaving scars where they hit. Kurt's grip tightened on the leather seat as he slowly turned to face Blaine. He took a deep breath before speaking as calmly as he could.

"Blaine. Who was that?" A silence settled in the car. Blaine uncurled his fingers from the steering wheel. He swallowed, tried to suppress his nerves. He felt his whole body give up as he tensed again. Knuckles tightened to the point of turning white, jaw clenched as fear and embarrassment came into play. He opened his mouth. Nothing but a chocked cough tangled with a breath came out. He could feel Kurt shift in the seat next to him. Blaine hoped this meant Kurt was turning away, giving up on the queries. So why did he suddenly feel a pair of eyes searching for what his mind was so desperate to keep hidden?

"It's nothing Kurt. Just please let it go, okay?" Blaine was almost as startled as Kurt was at the snarl that laced his voice. He shook it off. It didn't matter right now. Kurt slowly sank back into his chair, crossed his arms and remained silent the rest of the drive. He settled himself against the window, letting the rapidly passing landscape blur into one, unsettling image of the unknown. Meanwhile, Blaine was desperately trying to get Kurt home. He rushed through the streets, impatient at every red light that seemed to go on for just a little too long. Kurt was beginning to frown, awfully hurt and confused by everything that had just happened.

The hurt gave in to disbelief as the storefronts kept speeding past. He had to be dreaming. They were in Ohio, but they hadn't done anything wrong. He settled his hand on his thigh, ready to pinch himself. It's childish, but he needed the reassurance. He needed to know that Blaine was all right, he wasn't still stuck in whatever trance had torn him apart at the Lima Bean. The glossy sheen his eyes had suddenly lost when those three boys came across the room. Kurt began to feel his chest get tighter. Breathing was becoming a little more difficult to do. Because Blaine was gripping the steering wheel, eyes rimmed with unshed tears as they turned into Kurt's driveway.

Blaine slowly sank back properly into his chair, holding his hands and massaging his numb knuckles. Kurt couldn't speak. His breathing was labored and Blaine was staring straight ahead, absently rubbing his hands. Kurt leaned over to Blaine's seat and rested his hand on the other boy's shoulder, pressing his lips momentarily to a forehead. Blaine closed his eyes and swallowed, but didn't move. Kurt opened the door and stepped out, greeted by a harsh blast of air. Winter was finally settling in, so he wrapped his scarf around his neck more snuggly. Turning around to close the door, he flashed Blaine a smile, pretending that whatever had just happened had indeed been 'nothing'. But Blaine was deep in thought, hands still clasped. He turned to give Kurt a sad look, forcing a small smile to tug at his lips. He then went right back to staring into the void of his own mind. Kurt simply closed the door and walked over to his porch. He opened the door without even waiting for Blaine to drive away.

He settled on the couch near his father. A small nod of the head was all he got in response as the football game started on the TV screen. Another silence filled the space as the game began. Burt would occasionally cat call and shout whenever an important pass was fumbled, but none of his attention was for Kurt.

"Dad? Can we talk for a second?" Kurt sounded so scared, he was almost embarrassed. This was his father, not some stranger throwing insults at him.

"Mmh?" Burt hadn't even shifted his gaze over to his son long enough to make eye contact.

"Why did you lie to me about mom's death?" That comment had caught Burt's attention. The TV fell silent suddenly as he sat up, facing his son with a softening expression on his face. "I mean, why did you believe the truth would be worse than the disappointment I would feel once I found out?" Kurt was looking at his shoes, too nervous to meet his father's gaze. Burt got up off the couch and came to sit closer to Kurt, wrapping the boy in his arms. They sat for a while, Kurt sinking into the feeling of love and acceptance his father had always given him.

"Well Kurt, when you care for someone, you want them to be happy more than anything. You want to see their smile, you live to hear their laugh fill the air. So when you find a way to ensure that happiness stays in their life, you take it. You don't always think it through very well. Which is a big problem, because you later realize that the extra happiness wasn't worth the excruciating sadness that pours out after it. But during that little burst of joy, all you can feel is pride for having made that possible. With your mother, I was devastated, as were you. But I had to seem content in order to tell you everything was fine, even though it wasn't. Deep down, I guess I only lied to myself about my feelings. I told myself that this hardship, this bump in the road, was nothing. That we would get through it. And so I told you the same thing. Sadly, you soon found out the truth. And with that you lost some of your happiness, meaning that I had ultimately failed." Burt ended with a tight squeeze around Kurt's shoulders. Kurt was quiet as he simply nodded before whispering something near his father's ear.

"You didn't fail Dad. You simply lost track of the goal momentarily. It just shows how much you care, how hard you try in order to do whatever you think might keep me happy. And I'm glad you did. Feeling the abandon right away would have been too much."

"Now why are you bringing this up?" Burt pushed Kurt by the shoulders a little so he could stare into his son's eyes. A soft smiled spread to Kurt's face as he got up and turned the volume back up in time to hear the screams of a thousand football fans in unison.

"Oh, it's nothing." With that, Kurt grinned and began climbing the stairs up to his room. His hand rested on the cold silver handle as his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. Taking it out he saw a text from Blaine. At least he was still alive and talking to Kurt.

_Just wanted to make sure you were okay. It's been a weird day._

Blaine was curled up in his duvet, hands clasped around his knees as he took deep breaths. His phone was off. Kurt had replied, saying he was fine and wishing Blaine a good night's sleep to clear his head. He glanced down at the bright red digital clock on his beside table. 2:36 AM, and he was curled up on his bed. So much for sleeping, he though as he let go of his knees to turn his lamp back on. Light filled a small portion of his room as he blinked. More unshed tears spilled as Blaine closed his eyes and sank into his pillow. The soft fabric enveloped him as he finally gave in. He let his mind take over and rip this afternoon apart, examining each piece.

The Lima Bean. Calm and quiet as always when they had arrived. The air had turned colder when the three monsters had walked in, and Blaine had felt something. Something that hadn't been enough of a warning; he was too engrossed in his story to pay attention to his gut. The three men came closer, more into view, until he recognized them. Which sadly meant they had recognized him. He had gotten Kurt out of there, he had done his job. But they hadn't gotten the memo, because moments later they were insulting him. He had brushed the insult off, more enraged than hurt. But Kurt. Kurt hadn't coped as well. He had tightened his grip on Blaine, his face had gone paler. So Blaine ran. He had wanted to fight, to sink his fists into each of their stomachs, and make them feel what he had to endure.

A sharp pain ripped through Blaine's left side. He sat up, grabbing his hips and ugging his chest. All thoughts of today's events left as he struggled not to groan. The pain soon changed to a tingling. His nerves seemed on fire as he tightened his arms. The pressure replaced the tingles, but soon the pain returned, accompanied by an intense need to scratch the skin. Blaine propped himself up against his headboard, removing his shirt as quickly as possible. Extending his right arm caused another sharp pain to jolt through him. He winced and took a deep breath. A ragged scar lined Blaine's right side, following the curve of his chest as it passed over 3 ribs. Tentatively, he approached his hand over the red area. His scar was inflamed. Every few seconds, pain would travel through his core, leaving him breathless and whimpering. With each new instance of pain he felt like his ribs were now on fire. The metal plates inserted to keep them still were overheating, scalding his skin from the inside. More tears began to form as he began crying out as quietly as he could. Grabbing a pillow, he turned his head into it to muffle the sounds. The pain kept intensifying, draining Blaine's energy. Then, suddenly, it stopped. He felt numb, unable to feel his chest as he touched his hand to the previously inflamed skin. All feelings of warmth had disappeared as fast as the pain, making Blaine question whether they ever really were there. He let out a shaky breath before slipping his shirt back on.

They had done this to him. This reminder that people had gone out of their way to take Blaine's happiness and crush it like his ribs. White-hot rage replaced any pain he had previously felt as he sat up again. He trailed his eyes around the room, landing on a picture of him and Kurt at a lake, leaning against a tree. The summer sun left a flare on the picture, blurring out the edges. Kurt had his head firmly placed against Blaine chest, a large smile gracing his face. Blaine had his arms wrapped around Kurt. The two looked so peaceful. They had just been swimming and Blaine's hair was a mess of wet curls that were slowly dripping down his exposed chest. Blaine froze as he came to the scar. Kurt was right next to it, avoiding any pressure on it. It looked healed, barely visible, almost forgotten. Not red and angry like it was now.

Blaine began to feel guilty. Kurt seemed so happy on the picture, yet the car ride had been less than pleasant. The frown Kurt shot his as he stepped out of the car was still bothering him. All Kurt wanted was to know the truth. All Blaine wanted was to forget it. Someone would have to compromise. And since the scar was a constant reminder, he thought Kurt could give something up for now. It would help them both. Blaine would not have to think about his trauma, and Kurt would never even know it happened. Of course he knew about the incident, and the surgery, which left the scar. But he didn't know that Blaine woke up some nights drenched in his sweat. That his chest pained him whenever strong images returned. Blaine was only protecting Kurt. He didn't want to upset him over something that happened long ago.

So he decided he wouldn't tell Kurt. This one time thing would not ruin the happiness he had acquired since he had met Kurt. The love he was getting and giving was enough to counter act all this hate. He thought settling his mind might help him sleep, so he turned off his light and settled back into bed. He closed his eyes and let the darkness surround him. The world fell silent as he entered the land of dreams. He remained relatively still until a familiar dream forced itself into his head.

Blood on a sidewalk as three boys circled around a downed body. Somewhere off to the side lay an unconscious child, sprawled across the sidewalk. The boy at the center of the circle was gasping for breath, clutching his chest. The three others yelled insults at him, pushing and shoving him every now and then. Nearby, lights were turned on as the dance was being cleaned up. Far off voices could be heard. Teachers and staff too busy with clean up to notice two teens being violently beaten. An engine revved as a black car came to a stop at the corner of the road. A tall man got out. His green eyes tried to pierce the dark night as he searched for Louis and his friend. His eyes fell on the huddled group and he walked towards them until he spotted his son, lying on the floor.

Blaine jolted upright again, rubbing his face with his sleeve as he gasped for breath. His head felt dizzy and he needed some air to clear his head. Glancing down at his clock, he noted that 6:47 was not too early for a little stroll, even if the winter season meant it was still quite dark. He crawled out of bed, put on a jacket and grabbed his phone. He made his way downstairs and into the kitchen. A packet of post-it notes were stuck onto the fridge, so he took on and scribbled a short explanation for his walk in case his parents were up before he was back. He walked out of the front door and zipped up his jacket, reveling at the feeling of cold air in his lungs.


End file.
